AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His smile was wide and involuntary, and he lowered his head to hide it. Nobody, he thought, was as messed up as she was. And then his smile died when a loud, male voice yelled.
“Hey! What thehail,Mister! Git yer hands off my woman!”
“Oh shoot,” Maria said, looking toward the entrance. “Billy Bob, what the hay are you doin’ here?
The guy, who was packing about thirty pounds of excess weight that might’ve all been muscle, strode across the room and Maria got up and faced him.
Harrison stood up, too, because the raging bull’s bloodshot eyes were focused on him. To his surprise, Maria stepped in front of him, right into Billy Bob’s path.
“Hey,” she said. “You leave him outta this. I hitched a ride with him, is all.”
“I’ll deal with you later,” he growled, and then he clasped her shoulder and shoved her sideways so hard she crashed into the table, tipped it over, and landed on the floor with the remainingtacos. The red salsa bowl broke in half. And for some, suicidal reason, Harrison grabbed the angry groom by the shirt and shoved him away from Maria. He was frankly surprised he’d managed to move the guy at all. Maybe he’d had one of those fight-or-flight adrenaline surges that enable mothers to lift cars off their babies.
In his peripheral, Harrison saw Manual leap the bar with a baseball bat in hand. Dead ahead, all he could see was Billy Bob’s fist.
Harry went down hard. Then Billy Bob straddled him, pulled him up by the front of his shirt, and punched him again. Maria scrambled to her feet, grabbed the big glass water pitcher from the table next to hers, and smashed her ex-intended right over the head with it.
Billy Bob howled and spun toward her, furious.
The unmistakable sounds of multiple gun-hammers wentclickita-clickita-clack, and Billy Bob froze. So did Maria Michele, for that matter. Poor Harry was on his back on the floor, not moving, maybe unconscious. His face was a mess. Some of it was probably salsa. Lord, please let some of it be salsa.
Cautiously, she turned her head to look behind her. The sleepy sombrero-wearing gringo was pointing a long-barreled black revolver. The husband and wife held a pair of shiny silver .38s with pearl handles— a matched set, which was kinda cute, when you thought about it.
Manuel had a baseball bat, and was the only one still moving. He strode, right up to Billy Bob, bat raised. “You git on outta here. G’on, git!”
Billy Bob raised his hands and backed away.
“Wait,” Maria said. “First tell me what you’re even doin’ here?”
“You walked out on our weddin’. You didn’t think I’d come after you?” Billy Bob seemed genuinely perplexed.
“I saw what you did to the dancer at your bachelor party last night. I didn’t know you were violent, Billy Bob. I want no part of a man who’d hit a woman.”
On the floor, Harry moaned. He needed help, but she needed answers.
“I was drunk! You cain’t blame a man for what happens at his stag party, anyway.”
“Yeah, is the party still goin’? You drunk right now?” She glanced down at Harry. His eyes were too messed up to tell whether they were open. “Look what you did to him, and you knocked me for a loop, too. I don’t think I know you at all.”
“When a man takes your woman?—”
“I ain’t your woman, and you’d better thank your lucky stars for that, Billy Bob, because if I’d married you and you’d ever put a hand on me, they’d never find your body.”
He met her eyes defiantly.
“You know me,” she said. “You know I don’t lie. And you know my kin.”
Manuel snort-laughed. He knew ’em, too. Everyone in this place likely knew her family.
“That girl you hit was a friend of mine, workin’ her way through college dancin’ for pigs like you. And you put your hands on her. Youhither.”
She took a step sideways, toward Manuel, reaching out her hand, taking the baseball bat from his.
“Hey!” Billy Bob took a step backward. “What do you think you’re?—”
“How’d you find me, anyway?” she asked.
“I just drove. I?—”
